September 10, 2001, I remember going to bed excited to wake up 18 years old. I was finally going to be able to legally buy my own cigarettes. Instead, a call from a frantic friend woke me in the morning.

"Someone is bombing the World Trade Center!" he screamed.

"What?"

"Get up and turn on the TV."

I ran upstairs and turned on the television. The first image I saw was the top of one of the buildings that housed the World Trade Center with a never ending plume of dark, thick smoke launching into the sky. Flames shot out of the building. Dust, ruble and people fell, or jumped, from the crash site.

I stood in the living room unable to look away from the television.

Another plane hit the second tower.

I didn't hear the words emitting from the television. I could only see the pictures.

Then the top of the first tower crumbled on itself. The dust in the air was becoming so thick, it began accumulating on the television camera lens. I switched the channel.

Here I saw an agglomeration of people. Some running, some bloodied, some frozen. Dust covered them all.

"What does all of this mean?" I thought to myself. Growing up, I always had the impression that I lived in The country that couldn't be touched. Surprise! Happy birthday to me.

That was almost 10 years ago.

Last night, as I was comforting my four-year-old trying to abolish the pain from his ear infection, I got a call from my mother.

"Ugh! She has perfected the art of calling at inconvenient times. . . Hello?"

"Are you watching the news?"

"No, Johnny has an ear infection. Why?"

"They are saying that Osama bin Laden is dead."

I thought, "Is bin Laden really dead?" The military has spent the last 10 years chasing this guy and they found him hiding in a mansion? Last I knew he was hiding in caves. Nice cave.

Have I really lived through and seen all of this happen? Has it really been almost 10 years?Will I ever see al-Qaeda demolished? Maybe in 2021.

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